


The right to soar

by id_ten_it



Category: Ballet Shoes - Noel Streatfeild
Genre: Future Fic, Gen, Historical References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-02-23 13:53:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23712547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/id_ten_it/pseuds/id_ten_it
Summary: The Fossil sisters come back together again, and add a couple of people to their family along the way.
Relationships: Posy Fossil/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10
Collections: New Year's Resolutions 2020





	The right to soar

**Author's Note:**

  * For [archiesfrog](https://archiveofourown.org/users/archiesfrog/gifts).



“It really is the most beastly luck this war came along” Posy moaned, “I only had a couple years before we got stuck in America.” The characteristic mix of selfish and high-strung came out in the youngest Fossil’s words. ‘Only she isn’t selfish, not really’ Pauline thought to herself, ‘just dreadfully wrapped up in dancing.’ The sisters were seated at the little table in front of the big window in Pauline’s move-star house. “It _is_ hard luck.” The elder allowed, “but after all, thirty isn’t that old, not really! You’ve years of performing to go yet.”  
“I suppose” Posy admitted, “but it’s not as easy as it was for you, you know. I can’t go back as easily if I had a baby.”  
“Do you want one?” Pauline inquired, thinking of the wee pink thing upstairs with Garnie in the nursery Nana had loved creating.  
“Not particularly, but Jakub keeps talking about it.”  
“You don’t even love him!”  
“He doesn’t know that! When they published that silly story he thought it was all serious.” Posy clutched at her cup of tea. For all her approaching age, she was still immature in some ways and her new dance partner taking the bit of interest-building gossip published in advance of the last of the season’s shows had upset her more than she fully understood.  
“Posy” her sister said, shaking her by the shoulder just as she used to when Posy scuffed her shoes by walking on their toes. “Posy! Oughtn’t you say something to him?”  
“There’s nothing to say.” The dancer stood abruptly. “I’d better get some practice in. This show has to be good enough to take home you know.”

Home. Pauline smiled at the idea. Left alone, she poured another cup of tea, and thought back over everything that had changed since she last saw England. Petrova had written – irregularly, it must be said – and they had all seen newsreels and the papers, but it was hard to imagine the airfield by Gum’s cottage occupied by Poles and bombed by the Nazis. Petrova had written a very lively account of a flight she had done when she’d been chased cross-country by a Luftwaffe fighter. It had been funny to read, but Pauline suspected it wasn’t as much fun to do. England was quite changed and she was changed as well. Little Phillipa hadn’t seen England of course, though her father had, before he went to fight in Europe.  
“Frightfully jolly” Petrova had written, “we had a grand time and he got me to show him all the old places, only some of them aren’t the same now of course. I look forward to seeing him when he comes back. You _have_ had a good bit of luck!” Only, he hadn’t come back. Pauline kept his dog tags, Bible, cigarette case, his copy of their family photo, in his top drawer. Garnie hadn’t let her throw anything out even though she’d desperately wanted to at the time, and she was glad now. Garnie always had been sensible. And now, very soon, she was going home! All of them would go back, though Posy would follow with the troope and the troublesome Jakub, and join the rest when the London season was over.

Pauline wondered what the season would be like, now the war was over. A bit shabby, she though, but everyone would be so eager. Petrova had some bee in her bonnet about Pauline doing some visits to a nearby hospital, and she and her boarder had to go to work, but otherwise there were no plans. Pauline was so lost in her day-dream that it was quite a shock when Garnie came down with Phillipa. “Oh!” she cried, “it _has_ got late. Thank you Garnie.”

***

Just like that day years ago when Pauline and Garnie had left for America, going to England caused no end of interest. “Anyone would think nothing important was happening in all the world.” Pauline thought, but she smiled at the poor newspaper reporters, and little Phillipa stayed nice and quiet at all the important moments. Eventually they got away, and then they were on the ship! It seemed to take no time at all before the little party was back in England, and no sooner were they properly berthed but a dark, thin, woman with ink all down one hand and oil smudges all over her skin raced towards them. “Pauline! Garnie!”  
“Petrova” Pauline hardly recognised her sister, “how you’ve changed! I barely recognised you!”  
“I recognised you of course!” Petrova laughed, “I _am_ a fright for sending pictures. But you can see me now. Is this Phillipa?” Phillipa, who was, after all, an actresses child, chose that moment to blink her eyes open and grace Petrova with a smile. “Oh she _is_ a dear. I knew she would be.” The two sisters shared a sad smile, thinking of little Phillipa’s father. Then – “Come along! We need to beat the press! I bought the big car down. We’ll go to the inn tonight and motor down tomorrow. I have all week off so there’s no need to rush.”

In very little time at all, the four of them were sitting in the front room of a proper English pub. Pauline, who hadn’t realised how homesick she was, couldn’t stop talking and looking around, but Petrova sat quietly as she always had when very moved. Phillipa sat on her Aunt’s knee and played with a succession of interesting objects out of Petrova’s ample pockets, gnawing happily enough on a pie crust. Petrova told them briefly about the home they were going to – Cook and Clara, of course, and Erica, her colleague – because after the war she had got a job working at a very important engineering company near Farnborough. “We’re working on metal fatigue.” She could have said she was working on finding a way to solve a dry equation from Dr Smith. Luckily Petrova hadn’t expected anything else from her family and swiftly turned the conversation back to more general lines. “Let’s have a toast” Pauline suggested, when Petrova bought tall foaming glasses of cider. “To being back in England” Garnie suggested. “To Nana, who would have loved being back” Pauline added, aware Petrova regretted missing the funeral. “To our family.” Petrova finished, because she missed Gum some days still, and Posy too, but it’s hard to feel bad when people are better off where they are.

When they had all gone up to their rooms, Pauline came through to Petrova for a chat as they used to. “Is it very odd to be back, Pauline?”  
“A little. Some things seem just the same, but an awful lot has changed.”  
“And we’ve changed too.” Petrova said. “But we’re still sisters and that’s what counts.”  
“Absolutely. I’m glad I didn’t change my name you know. It didn’t seem right somehow.”  
“You could’ve, it wouldn’t have changed anything.”  
Pauline shook her head, “it’s our name. We made it and we’ll keep it. Oh Petrova! I must tell you about Posy now. It’s better the others don’t know.” Pauline told her all about the way Jakub thought Posy cared about him far more than the dancing, and how Posy was looking forward to some time just the three of them.  
“But of _course_ Posy isn’t interested.” Petrova seemed surprised this might need explaining, “she’s all tied up in her dancing, and she hasn’t worked out what she wants herself yet.” Pauline frowned so Petrova continued, “I don’t think she’ll ever have a nice man somewhere. I think all her special dancing girls were really her getting more interested than she knew. I know she’s an adult, but I don’t think she’s worked out that women can do what her precious Manoff does with Georg.” Pauline was half-scandalised, half-giggling. “Petrova Fossil! Don’t talk about your sister like that! Besides, it isn’t true.”  
“You don’t have to believe me right away.” Petrova allowed.  
“I shan’t ever believe you” Pauline teased, but over breakfast she seemed distracted, and Petrova thought she knew why.

When they all pulled up at the little cottage Petrova had bought after the war, Erica, Cook, and Clara were waiting at the front door. Erica took the car round the back to the spacious garage she and Petrova had set up, knowing that she would be in the way otherwise. The other two were both terribly excited to see Pauline, and Cook had been saving ration cards for weeks to make all their favourite dishes. “Cook! Clara!” Pauline waved out the window, excited to see her old family. In all of the excitement Phillipa was passed around like a parcel and enchanted all. “She has her Father’s eyes” Clara announced, having met him before he left for Europe. Pauline beamed, and they all trooped inside.

Just as the last time Pauline had visited, Clara and Cook had felt a little apart from the famous movie star, but after everyone had finished eating and Phillipa was in bed, Pauline went down and perched on the big table for a chat. After a couple nights like that, the little cottage by the airfield began to feel much more like a home. Cook still had dreams of a new labour-saving kitchen, and Petrova still wanted a roof that didn’t leak so much, but with Garnie and Pauline back all the little issues with the cottage that hadn’t been fixed during the war didn’t seem to matter so much. Near the start of the war, Gum had gone outside for his afternoon nap and had never woken up, and Petrova had been away for most of the war but Cook and Clara had kept the old cottage going as a billet, and now they told Pauline and Garnie all about the funny things that had happened.

After the week was over, Petrova had to go back to work, and she and Erica would jump on their bikes and peddle away every morning. They came home together every night and only talked sometimes about the fascinating issues with keeping their new aeroplane in the air. When one of the engineers promised that Pauline would one day fly easily between America and England, everyone else laughed, but they were so kind about it that the women didn’t mind.

Because they weren’t working, Garnie and Pauline (and Phillipa) explored all around the fields and cities nearby. One exciting day Pauline hired a car and all of them went to London and visited all their old haunts. Pauline hadn’t had a proper holiday since Phillipa was born, and she enjoyed the break immensely. She even arranged for Cook, Clara, and Garnie to go and watch Posy dance in London on the closing night of her ballet. The four of them stayed in town that night and then took Posy back home with them. Pauline and Petrova were waiting with Phillipa on the doorstep, and the shouts of reunion were loud enough to rouse the interest of the neighbourhood had anyone been around to hear. Luckily, nobody was, and their raptures went unseen by anyone but the family.

“You look so _well_ ” Petrova beamed at Posy, laughingly joining in the old _pas de trois_ they had always used when letting off steam. Posy laughed and wheeled away in a stream of pirouettes that turned into the steps of the vow she had memorised decades ago. Once everyone had calmed down the three sisters went back outside to show Posy everything she had missed for the last few years. Erica did her trick of sliding into the background, but Petrova noticed that she always seemed to know exactly where the dancer was.

It was a simply splendid day having all of them together, and Petrova was surprised when Posy started to talk when they were up in the bedroom that night. She had her own room, of course, but with everyone staying there she and Posy were sharing. “Don’t you ever-“ Posy broke off, rolling onto her side and looking over at the tousled head in the bed next to her, “Petrova? Don’t you ever get lonely?”  
“Lonely?” Petrova sat up in shock, “whyever would I be lonely, Posy?” She simply hadn’t time to be lonely. It hadn’t occurred to her. There were so many things to be discovered and so many things to do.  
“Well…” with a sudden wriggle Posy settled herself into a comfortable knot, “Pauline had her husband and now she has Phillipa. Garnie has us. Nana had all of us. You’ve been running around but now you’re at home so don’t you want it to be a home?”

“Posy…” her sister pushed her short hair back impatiently, “it is a home. I’m comfortable, I have my work and my friends.”  
“Don’t you want more?” when Petrova looked vaguely shocked, Posy wriggled her feet free and thought with them just as when she was a girl. “When…sometimes…” it took a few starts before she got the words in the right order. “There’s so many characters who are longing for the right one, and they’re not difficult to dance but lately I wonder if I’ll ever feel like that.”  
She sat fiddling with her handkerchief, then glanced up at Petrova, who had no idea what to say to make Posy feel better. She went with the next best thing. “I don’t know exactly what that feels like, Posy, but…perhaps you aren’t looking in the right place?”  
Posy blushed as red as her hair and tried to look innocent. “What do you mean? I don’t do what some of the girls do and get with the other dancers but they can’t be right. They’re so…”  
“Young.” Petrova supplied, “and you’re the prima donna.”  
“You do understand!” Posy grinned.  
“Not quite. Posy…how about the girls?” Petrova waited until her sister had finished flushing to continue, “come on Posy. All your letters talked about the different girls you were friends with. Remember the costume mistress in France? And how about the makeup artist in Pauline’s last film?” Posy’s eyes softened and her toes scrunched and stretched under the blankets. “Also!” Petrova was warming to her theme now, and apparently had remembered every detail from the scant letters and news received from over the seas. “What about that Cook Pauline had?”

Posy jumped up, twirling away with her laughter, and landing up on the bed next to Petrova. “You mean…this is an option?” Petrova laughed and cuddled her shoulder, “of course it is! Anything is an option, Posy. You know who you might like to talk with? Erica.” Petrova didn’t explain more, she didn’t think Posy would appreciate it, but her friend was calm and unhurried where Posy was flighty, and both were absorbed in their work. It seemed, if Petrova was any good at knowing people, they’d balance each other and Erica would keep her sister safe. At the very least, she had a very open mind and was just the sort of friend a woman might like.

“I’ll talk with her tomorrow.” Posy promised, wriggling down under her own blankets and apparently falling asleep soon after. Petrova shook her head fondly at the antics of other people running around after each other, and drifted off to sleep remembering the first proper conversation she’d had with Erica.

Erica, Petrova had learnt, may have come from Australia, but she was as English as Petrova was. They shared the feeling of completely belonging in England though their paperwork suggested they shouldn’t. “The olds moved to Australia because Dad needed work” Erica had explained, “and they made me stay because of the war. But then Darwin was bombed so I said that was really too silly a reason to not come here and learn so here I am. There was a frightful row, but it all turned out okay in the end.” Petrova had got used to Erica’s mixed accent and turns of phrase, and Erica had never asked for anything other than a proper friendship, so they lived and worked together and got along like a house on fire.

When Erica and Petrova came home from work the next night, Posy slipped out to meet them. They’d known each other only a few weeks, but Posy wasn’t the type to be shy, and Erica knew what she liked. That night marked the start of something very precious, and every night from then on Posy would meet them at the gate and Petrova would go on alone. It wasn’t enough time to do more than smile shyly at each other and hesitantly introduce themselves properly, but it was a good start.

Erica knew what not to say to Posy, when they finally got some time alone. She wasn’t sure what to say, exactly, but she had very definite memories of Petrova rushing through the Mess like a vicious _shamal_. The men had been enjoying their down time shouting some lines from Noel Coward. Erica had stood in the doorway bright red as Petrova leapt onto a table and declaimed to them. She spoke just as Dr Jakes and the Academy had taught her. It was, as Erica had said later, marvellous.

 _“Soft?”_ Petrova had repeated, _“hysterical little actors?”_ she remembered Pauline taking a job she didn’t want to let her sister live her dream. _“ballet dancers?”_ in her mind Posy ran across all of Europe, all the way to America, barely one step in front of the Nazis. _“life is flying above your heads?”_ Dr Jakes waiting at home while Dr Smith hid away on a country estate working on who knew what. “You know nothing! You’re all just _children_! Don’t you ever laugh at what we’re fighting for!” Then she had stormed out, dragging Erica with her.

So Erica knew not to suggest that Posy mightn’t be strong. But although she’d spent years working with driven, single-minded, people, she’d never been around anyone as…unmodulated…as Posy. In the end she needn’t have worried, and they smiled across the breakfast table at each other knowing they had a good start together.

It was a good start, but it was nothing near as good as the rest of it. Pauline lived in town, and Clara and Cook went with her because she needed someone and Clara had always loved the pictures and stars still came to visit Pauline even though she was finally back on the stage. Phillipa was still passed around like a parcel, but she spent term time at the school near where Erica and Petrova lived, and hols there or with her Mother. She never could fix the car when it broke down, but she was always top of her class for maths and recitation, and if Posy didn’t teach her any dance, she at least taught her other things, like how to love someone and be together but apart. Petrova laughed whenever her sisters flew the Atlantic in three hours, but she got a funny feeling in her chest when she saw the runway at Port Stanley. And when Posy went back to the stage, and Erica to university, they wrote and called and there was usually a telegram waiting in for Posy on closing night. Then, when she started teaching, there were weekend trains and rowdy family Christmases, and Erica’s motorbike. One day, when it was just the two of them, Posy scrunched up her nose at the rumours of war, and smiled. “Just think. It was lucky the war came along or I’d have gone on and on without you.” Pauline would have laughed, and Petrova would have said something unprintable, but Erica just smiled back and agreed.

**Author's Note:**

> Reference material was actually read in preparation for this! The main ones are listed below in acknowledgement and as suggestions for further reading if you want to learn more about some of the things mentioned above.
> 
> Thanks to Simon Cornwell's extensive notes on Pyestock, the home of the NGTE where Petrova and Erica work (http://www.ngte.co.uk/intro/index.htm), I was able to imagine where these intelligent engineering types were working and even where Petrova would have moved to after the war.  
> Operation BLACK BUCK referenced with thanks to background gleaned from Rowland White's "Vulcan 607"  
> The 1957 Defence White Paper from the UK was a significant milestone regarding the reorganisation of the military, and of the aviation industry, which was important for Petrova and Erica's work.  
> Words for "Lie in the dark and listen" are here: https://www.monologues.co.uk/Military/Lie_in_the_Dark.htm .
> 
> I also referred to Noel Streatfield's 1973 Christmas Book excerpt "What happened to Pauline, Petrova, and Posy", and her "Curtain Up". Any errors are on me alone.


End file.
